


Flaxen

by The_Exile



Category: Royal Blood | Gemfire
Genre: Community: ladiesbingo, Female Friendship, Gen, Mortals and Immortals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-25 18:06:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12538028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Exile/pseuds/The_Exile
Summary: Nobody had asked a Gem Wizard how they dye their hair before. Or worried about their safety.





	Flaxen

**Author's Note:**

> prompt ' natural colours'

"There's something I have to know. Is your hair naturally that colour or do you dye it?" the Princess flashed her a glance with eyes bright and clear as twin cut opals – incidentally, the same colour as Scylla's hair.

The Gem Wizard sighed, "I thought you said this was an emergency."

"It is. The market's in town, and if you dye your hair, I want some too. Or do you make it yourself?"

"It's... sort of half and half. The colour, the way it flows... it's enchanted to be like that, but the magic I maintain it with is the same that keeps the rest of my essence together in a human form. I mean, I do have to actively keep it up but it's not more effort than existing. With a gem wizard's arcane strength, it's no more trouble than breathing."

"Are you sure? It sounds awfully tough, having to concentrate to stay alive," Gwen frowned and folded her arms, "I'm not overworking you, am I?" 

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing. I have to calculate precisely when I need to retreat every time I go into battle," she replied, "And I won't die, I'll just revert back into a disembodied soul and I'll probably get trapped in the gem again and by the time I get out, the war will be over. Look, did you have to summon me for this? I'm supposed to be resting up for a battle. Don't you have a Kingdom to run?"

"I know what I'm doing," Gwen quite deliberately echoed the Wizard, her tone mischievous. The Princess didn't look that much younger than her. In fact, before Scylla was immortalised as a soul trapped inside a gem, making the whole concept of time rather irrelevant to her except when she needed to get something done in a short space of time, such as, say, win a war, she would probably have been around the same age as Gwen. A little more worldly, perhaps. Although she had to admit she knew nothing of what went on in a royal court except when she was summoned to it in private to be questioned about hair dye and work breaks.

"You know, I've worked with a lot of other monarchs before you liberated me," Scylla diplomatically did not say 'stolen or 'captured'. Not that she really believed Gwen had any more right to the throne than the other warring monarchs - she was the same way with all of them. The fact that she was a little more friendly with Gwen was a mixture of liking her as a person and not being able to talk her into maintaining formalities for more than five minutes. It wasn't that she didn't take her situation seriously. Quite the opposite - Gweyn spent more time on practicalities and less time on pointless ceremony than any other monarch Scylla had met. She had to admit that 'WAKE UP!' was a lot faster a summoning ritual than the usual invoking of every deity in the extensive Ishmerian pantheon, all of whom had names longer than Scylla's entire family tree combined, "None of them have ever summoned me just to ask me about my hair. Or been worried about me. I'm not sure how to take that. I don't like being disturbed over frivolities but I also think I really like the novelty of being treated like a person with feelings."

"Of course you're a person. I've met unicorns and pixies, Scylla. You weren't even all that different to me before you got gemmed, right?" Scylla winced at Gweyn's casual invention of a new word, "And it's not like I'm delaying anything important that I know of. The front line's quiet right now, trade is good, I'm desperately avoiding any contact with paperwork... I'm not keeping you from resting am I?"

Scylla shook her head, "I'm fine."

"I could make us a cup of tea, if you like. Grandfather said that tea was once sacred, you know, and that rulers should not only make their own tea, they should do it according to tradition. You're allowed to watch, though."

Scylla nodded her approval, a smile creasing her agelessly serene face. She was amused to find that the idea of getting on Erven's bad side frightened even her somewhat - the old scoundrel reminded her a little of the Fire Dragon when he was angry.

The relaxing effect of the tea helped her soul recharge. She resolved to do this again some time.


End file.
